


Nagbabaga

by goldenfields



Series: tempestuous [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Childhood, Fluff, M/M, half filipino taeyong, jaehyun centric, nostalgic, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28028286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenfields/pseuds/goldenfields
Summary: Jaehyun is 10 years old when he first visits the Philippines and meets a boy named Taeyong.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Series: tempestuous [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048411
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Nagbabaga

**Author's Note:**

> “I think I might be in love with you.”
> 
> Nagbabaga - burning/smoldering
> 
> (translations are in the end notes!)
> 
> twt: @yzhangml

Jaehyun is 10 years old and it’s his first time coming to the Philippines for summer. The air is hot and sticky, and his skin burns underneath the heat of the sun. He is pale and he stands out in the crowd of tans and rich colors, but there is a hint of rosiness tinging his cheeks and his neck and even his arms and torso. His father is speaking a different language with twisted tones, and his mother now wears a sheer, yellow blouse instead of her usual thick coats that stretch past his wrists and knees. He is confused.

They arrive in a province where there are only fields and fields of rice and corn. There are no tall infrastructures blending against the clear blue sky, no smoke and fog circling the air in thick layers. He steps outside quietly and lets his little feet hit the ground with a quiet thud. The air is still hot and sticky, and his pale skin is now tainted with searing red. The tips of his hair cling messily onto his sweat infused forehead, and he has to push them away with his fingers for him to be able to see properly. He squints, and he continues to squint under the sun. He sees an abundance of golds and greens and browns; rich colors he’s never had the opportunity to see back in South Korea. They are blinding to look at. The sight is still somehow unsettling for him.

He is 10 years old and it is his first time coming to the Philippines for summer. They have a house somewhere in a province filled with rice grains and crops as tall as him. The air is hot and sticky, and the wooden flooring of their said house is a huge contrast to the shiny, white tiles they have back in South Korea. Nights are much, much colder than mornings, but still not as cold as back home. He stretches his limbs against his bed, and he stares at the cream colored ceiling filled with light cracks at the edges. When he wakes the next morning, a sheen layer of sweat rests on top of his forehead. He wonders how he’d be able to get used to the sticky feeling of sweat clinging onto him and his clothes for the next two months.

He steps outside when the sun is already shining bright in the clear sky. Their house is big and grand in the middle of the barrio, standing tall and proud with its white walls and windows painted with browns, all made with sturdy woods from a century old tree. There are helpers, his mother had told him the other day. A small family that has taken care of their house while they were away in South Korea. He wonders how they could trust their own home with people they barely know.

The morning is humid. Chickens screaming from afar fill the air with noise. He winces at the unfamiliar sound before heading back to their dining area. He is surrounded with unfamiliar shades of browns and yellows and greens—the place is bigger than their home back in South Korea, much more spacious and free. He feels misplaced, still.

“Jaehyunnie,” his mother calls for him. His father sips on his coffee from the table as he reads the newspaper. “Let’s eat.”

Jaehyun heads for the seat next to his father. He sees his mother motioning for someone with her hand, a gentle smile on her face. Jaehyun follows her line of vision and sees a tanned boy standing by the refrigerator. He swallows and watches him quietly.

_“Yong, halika. Tumabi ka na lang sa anak ko. Kumain ka na muna.”_

Jaehyun’s ears perk up at the unfamiliar language. The tanned boy moves away from his spot, his lanky arms swaying beside him in quiet. He takes the seat beside Jaehyun, his eyes wide and wondering.

“ _Hello,”_ Jaehyun greets him with his limited english. “ _My name is Jaehyun.”_

The boy smiles at him. “Hello _…”_

Jaehyun is 10 years old and it’s his first time coming to the Philippines for summer. The air is hot and sticky, but the boy beside him is just as clear as the morning sky.

-

Jaehyun does not visit the Philippines again until a few year later. The summer is still as hot as he remembers, humid and sticky against his pale skin. He still stands out in a crowd of tans and rich colors, but he blends in more easily now. The place is familiar, yet still very much unlike South Korea.

“You do this every morning?” Jaehyun asks as they walk along the side of the road at 6 in the morning. His tongue is now more accustomed to English, and it is much easier for him to communicate with Taeyong now that they have finally found a middle ground.

Taeyong nods at him, albeit still a bit quiet and timid. He is holding a bag of steaming bread in his arms. _Pandesal,_ Jaehyun was told when he asked Taeyong what they were called. _Good bread. Eat with coffee and cheese._

“For bread?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “You walk for 10 minutes every morning for bread?”

“Good bread,” Taeyong repeats, his voice still careful. “Delicious. Uhm, _nakakabusog.”_

Jaehyun tilts his head to the side. _Nakakabusog?_

Taeyong smiles when he notices his confusion. He taps his tummy with his palm before showing a thumbs up. Jaehyun makes an ‘o’ shape with his lips, nodding along.

When they finally reach home, Jaehyun has found himself inhaling the rich scent of coffee as he dips his bread into the liquid. Taeyong smiles at him.

Chickens rise from their slumber. The sun has finally risen.

-

At 16, he still finds that the Philippines is much more different than South Korea.

He had his first kiss with a boy named Doyoung behind their school’s main building. It happened in a whim, and it was unlike anything he expected when he was younger. He didn’t know that teeth could get in the way, or that it would be a bit difficult to breath, especially when someone else’s face is literally pressed against his cheeks, his nose, everywhere. He didn’t appreciate the way his lips got wet with another person’s saliva, nor did he appreciate the heavy breathing. The experience was weird. _Very weird._

Which is why, after a week of going back to the Philippines with his parents, he wonders what could be the reason behind his sudden urge to pull Taeyong against him and seal his lips with a kiss.

He watches the older from a good distance, watching as his tanned arms glint underneath the morning heat. Taeyong is holding two cups of _something_ in his hands.

“What’s that?” Jaehyun asks when the older approaches him from their gates.

“Taho,” Taeyong states. He hands over the other cup while he sips on his own, humming at the sweet taste of _arnibal_ building against the pad of his tongue. “Tofu. Sago. Very sweet.”

Jaehyun stares at the delicacy. “Sago?” he repeats.

Taeyong points at the pearls mixed with the tofu and syrup. “Sago,” he states before wrapping his lips around the small plastic straw and taking another sip from his dessert.

Jaehyun watches him quietly. Taeyong’s skin is tanned and rich, and they glint with a thin layer of sweat. His hair his dark and his eyes are wide, and if Jaehyun looks close enough, he would see the traces of Korean blood in him that seemed to have gotten lost along the way. The place is full of golds and greens and browns, and Taeyong stands in the middle of it all, blending into the scenery and completing it with his smile and laughter.

The Philippines is different than South Korea, but his heart lies where the heat is. His heart lies where the rich colors are.

He wants to kiss Taeyong to see if he’d be able to like the Philippines just a little bit more than home. Perhaps, he already does.

_“Hyung, I think I might be falling in love with you,”_ he lilts. The words flow easier from his mouth with his mother tongue.

Taeyong glances up at him, unaware of the meaning behind Jaehyun’s words. “Huh?”

Jaehyun only smiles. The Philippines is much, much more different than home.

-

Jaehyun visits the Philippines again right after he turns 18. He rushes by the fields of rice and corn, past the heat of the sun, and across where golds and browns and tanned skin fill the land.

He sees Taeyong by the gates. Taeyong, whom he left for two years. Taeyong, who is still as tanned as he remembers, as beautiful as he remembers. Taeyong, who taught him the best way to eat a pandesal, who gave him the chance to taste taho and teach him how to introduce himself in Filipino. Taeyong, whose eyes are still as wide, whose smile is still as bright. Taeyong, the same Taeyong who held his hands and kissed his knuckles the night before he left when he was 16 years old.

Taeyong.

He stops in his tracks. The air is hot and sticky. His skin is still pale, but there is now a hint of brown dripping down his edges. Golds and greens and browns now swallow him whole, and he let the rich colors take him as theirs. He stares at Taeyong. Taeyong stares right back.

“Hello,” Taeyong greets him with a smile. “ _Kumusta na?_ ”

Jaehyun smiles. He waves. The chickens roar from a distance.

“ _Nandito na ako.”_

**Author's Note:**

> “Yong, halika. Tumabi ka na lang sa anak ko. Kumain ka na muna.” (Yong, come here. Sit beside my son. You need to eat first.)
> 
> Pandesal - common bread roll from the Philippines
> 
> “Nakakabusog” (Filling)
> 
> Taho - a delicacy made from tofu, pearls, and syrup
> 
> Arnibal - syrup used for taho
> 
> “Kumusta na?” (How are you?)
> 
> “Nandito na ako.” (I am here/I have arrived)


End file.
